


remote and islanded places

by sarken



Category: Dallas (TV 2012)
Genre: Episode: Venomous Creatures, Female Friendship, Gen, Missing Scene, Older Female Characters, References to Canonical Drug Abuse, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarken/pseuds/sarken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene from "Venomous Creatures."</p>
            </blockquote>





	remote and islanded places

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Emma and Ali for beta reading. The title is modified from a phrase in Sarah Orne Jewett's The Country of the Pointed Firs.

Bobby looks tired and guarded when he opens the door, his shoulders slouched and his jaw set. His lips are pressed into a thin line, but they part in surprise when he recognizes her. "Sue Ellen?" Frowning, he reaches out to touch her arm. "Sue Ellen, how are you? I haven't seen you since..."

"Since the election?" She forces a smile, but Bobby still looks apologetic, almost embarrassed. "I'm fine," she assures him, briefly resting her hand on top of his. "But J.R. told me what happened with Ann, and I thought maybe I should come see her."

Bobby's hand falls away as he steps back to let her inside. "She's resting right now," he says, glancing toward the stairs, "but I was just getting ready to bring her up some tea. You could take it to her instead."

"I'd like that," Sue Ellen agrees, following him into the kitchen, where the kettle is just beginning to whine. She sits at the counter and watches while he pours, pausing over the second cup. He turns toward her, eyebrows raised, and she accepts the offer with a nod.

As he places the kettle back onto the stove, he asks, "So, how much did J.R. tell you?" The tension from his jaw seeps into his words.

"Not much." Sue Ellen looks down and straightens one of her rings. "But enough."

"Ah." Bobby leans against the island and crosses his arms. "I just want to do what's best for her."

Sue Ellen tilts her head. "What do you mean?"

Bobby sighs. "I called the doctor." He says it like a confession, and his crossed arms tighten and shift. Sue Ellen's head feels light and her stomach heavy; she knows what's coming before he can say it. "He's been giving her... I don't know. I wrote it down, but I can't --" 

"Lorazepam." She doesn't have to think, not for a second, and she hates the recognition that flashes in Bobby's eyes.

"Yeah," he says, short, bitter. "To take the edge off." 

Something twists inside her.

"Only now she hasn't gotten out of bed, and she won't talk to me." 

His tone dips into anger, and he tries to hide it as he scoops the teabags out with a spoon, but he flings them into the sink, and they hit with a firm, wet sound.

He sets the mugs in front of her a moment later, hard enough for the tea to slosh over the sides. "Maybe you'll have better luck." He spins the handles toward her. "She always talks to you."

-

Ann is asleep, curled onto her side, when Sue Ellen lets herself into the bedroom. The curtains are drawn, but the afternoon sun filters through, brightening the room enough for her to see the redness around Ann's eyes and nose.

Quietly, Sue Ellen sets the tea on the nightstand, pushing aside a half-empty box of tissues to make room. She hesitates, but then lets herself reach out, brushing her fingers across Ann's furrowed brow. The wrinkles fade beneath her touch, and her heart skips: it's the first thing that's gone right in days. She can feel herself relaxing, a weight lifting from her chest, and she smiles down at Ann and touches her shoulder before crossing the room.

Light comes flooding in when she pulls back the curtains, and Sue Ellen sighs as she looks out over the ranch. It's beautiful, the way everything has taken on the golden sheen of autumn, but more than that, it still feels like home, and she knows this is where she is meant to be. Her family needs her -- _Ann_ needs her -- more than the people of Texas ever could.

Sue Ellen steps out of her shoes and climbs onto the bed, where she curls loosely around Ann, her chin on Ann's shoulder, her hand on Ann's arm. "Oh, Annie," she whispers, soft like a sigh. "Don't do this to us." 

It's selfish, but she needs Ann, too. She doesn't know how long she can be strong for both of them, and she pulls her friend closer. It's been a long time since she held her like this, and until now, she didn't know how much she missed it. She turns her face into Ann's hair, and she's disappointed when she feels her start to stir.

When she turns over, she blinks at Sue Ellen with puffy, unfocused eyes.

"Hi." Ann's sheepish voice is rough from crying, but she smiles faintly, and it almost reaches her eyes. "Governor."

Sue Ellen presses her lips together and shakes her head. "No," she says, "I'm afraid not."

The sheets rustle as Ann reaches for Sue Ellen's hand. "What happened?"

Sue Ellen slides Ann's warm fingers between hers. "I lost," she says simply, squeezing Ann's hand. It doesn't matter now. "Bobby made us tea, if you'd like to get out of bed and talk."

Ann looks away.

"Please?" Sue Ellen asks, sitting up. "I think we both could use it." She tucks a strand of hair behind Ann's ear. "Before the tea gets cold?"

Ann sighs. "All right," she says. "But you have to tell me everything."

"I always do."


End file.
